


Let Us Not Love With Words

by doctormccoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Commission fic, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Sub Drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes after a scene, Gabriel falls into a melancholy. Luckily, Sam knows just the way to cheer his archangel up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Us Not Love With Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thnksfrthwilliam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnksfrthwilliam/gifts).



> Commission fic delivery for [Padaguin!](http://padaguin.tumblr.com/) Happy birthday!
> 
> Note that D/s relationships are a serious commitment and you should never jump into one before doing all the research.

Gabriel would insist he was only _slightly_ quivering while Sam buckled his collar around his throat, the heaviness of the Enochian binding sigils carved into the leather settling over him like a blanket. It was only like this, with his Grace dampened, and wings restrained, that the archangel felt the freedom to just be Gabriel. 

Sam's Gabriel.

Not God's, not Heaven's, not anyone's.

Just Sam's.

The Sam who admires him with barely concealed want in his eyes, fingers brushing over the lock on the collar. They had done this so often Gabriel lost count, and each time left him craving more. More of this, more of _Sam._

Being an angel had its perks, and it was easy for Gabriel to steal Sam away from his brother's side while Dean slept to this secret place of theirs he had created, just for them. A tropical paradise on an island yet to be discovered by humans. Somewhere to call their own.

It was rather small and simple, at least by Gabriel's usually lavish standards, and dominated by the master bedroom. This was where the majority of their time here was spent, after all, and Gabriel grinned at the memory of Sam's first time here with him, sliding across the silk sheets to spread out across their bed. 

"Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth," he hummed absently, catching Sam's attention from where he had been setting up what they needed for the night and earning a quirked eyebrow.

"Quoting the Gospel of John in bed, now, Gabe?" came Sam's teasing voice, and Gabe's quite pleased when he's given a warm kiss, his nerves buzzing with electricity at the promise shadowed in Sam's very being.

Gabe shrugs and lounges across the mattress, folding his arms behind his head.

"Consider it a request to hurry up and come to bed, already," he murmurs, relishing the flash of heat in the human's gaze at this, the quirk of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

Sam does seem to work a bit faster, though, and when he's finished Gabe is sighing with delight at the soft bite of leather into the flesh of his wrists and ankles, warmth blooming in the pit of his belly. The leather cuffs were also decorated with Enochian symbols for restraint and warding, sturdy metal rings embedded in them so they could be clipped to almost anything to hold him in place.

Which, currently, leaves his wrists fastened together high over his head and hooked through an eyelet in the ceiling, Gabriel forced to stand on his toes on the bed so the weight of his body isn't entirely supported on his shoulders. He _loves_ this position, loves the way it spreads him open and leaves him vulnerable to Sam's gaze, sharp and penetrating as it is when he gets like this. 

He'll feel the ache later, and that thought sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, the archangel watching as Sam gathers two strips of deep green silk and slides up onto the bed to stand beside him. 

"You're going to be so good for me today, aren't you Gabriel?" he murmurs, sliding one of the cloths over the angel's eyes, tying it in a firm knot behind his head. He's smirking at the enthusiastic nod he gets in response, gagging the smaller man with the other length of silk, making sure his hair didn't snag in the knots.

"Good boy."

Gabriel should feel terrified in this moment, with his senses muted by the Enochian warding and even his vessel's weak vision obscured, but it only makes him feel more alive, clenching his fingers around the bell Sam pressed into his palm. It was their backup version of a safe word, when Gabe was gagged and couldn't speak, and if he felt overwhelmed at any point he just had to let it fall to the bedspread and Sam would still in an instant.

He had never had to use it before, though.

Sam always seemed to know just how far he could push the archangel before he broke, testing and stretching his boundaries further than he ever expected, but never exceeding them. 

There's a creaking sound as Sam steps off the bed and Gabriel waits, impatient but silent, waiting for something to happen. The anticipation of not knowing what's to come always heightened the excitement of it, made him feel each touch more than when his senses weren't dulled. 

Sam's hands are at his ankles and Gabe hisses behind the gag when his legs are pushed apart, the sturdy pole of a spreader bar hooking into an eyelet on each cuff to keep them open wide, throwing off his center of balance even more. He feels helpless, but Sam's hand is warm and soothing against his side, grounding him once more. 

It's easy to sink into that blank little space in his mind as Sam's mouth presses to his hip, nipping along the sharp edge of the bone but avoiding the places Gabe really wants it to be.

"You won't come until I tell you to."

It's not a request, it's a statement, and Gabe nods in understanding. He would be good for Sam, would be obedient, and once his Master had taken his pleasure, then Gabriel will have earned his own.

Sam's fingers ghost between his legs and brush over the plug buried deep in Gabriel's core, earning a pleased chuckle from him.

"Such a good little pet, opening yourself up for me like this. A sweet, tight little hole just begging to be used," he growls against Gabriel's thigh, and the angel's body jumps forward at the promise in his voice, cock already jutting out from the nest of brown curls, belying his excitement at what was to come. That turns to a whine of frustration, though, when Sam is pulling away again, leaving him to stand and wait for more. 

He's so tense in expectation for the touch, that when it finally comes in the form of the bite of a leather flogger into the meat of his back, he's almost startled off his feet, knees buckling. But then he gets his legs back under him and he presses back into the next strike, a muffled groan exploding from his throat.

"Do you want another, my pet? Ask me for it," Sam demands, pressing the handle of the flogger against the plug inside him just enough to make Gabriel shudder. The plug isn't even nearly large enough to touch him where he needs it, doing little more than keeping him opened up, but each push against it makes it skirt the edges of his prostate, just shy of doing any good.

Unable to voice is plea, Gabriel shoves himself back against the handle of the flogger instead, helping Sam to torment him with the plug. He can almost _hear_ the grin his Master wears as the handle moves away again, Gabriel automatically tensing for a blow that doesn't come until a few seconds later, catching him off guard and making him scream around the saliva soaked silk of the gag. His toes curl into the sheets as Sam continues to strike him across his back, ass and thighs, hard enough to sting and bruise but not so much to draw blood and Gabriel clutches his fingers tight around the bell, refusing to let it fall. 

His nerves are on fire by the time the blows cease, and his cock is so hard it's almost purple between his spread thighs, the angel whimpering softly and breathing hard through his nose. He's trembling and oversensitized from the pain-pleasure coursing through his system, skin shiny with sweat, but he knows Sam is only just getting started, and he waits on the knife edge of pleasure, aching for more.

Gabriel doesn't even realize the ache in his shoulders from behind held up so long in this position until Sam is behind him and unhooking his wrists from the eyelet, supporting his weight when his legs immediately give out under him, guiding his body to lay down across the mattress. His hands are still cuffed together, and he relaxes briefly when Sam's fingers massage into his sore shoulders enough to let him slide his arms over his head once more, so that the chain connected to the pivoting eyelet in the wall can be clipped to his wrists. The spreader bar is left locked to his ankles, though, as Sam guides him to roll over onto his stomach, and Gabe relishes the brief friction of silk against his aching cock.

The spreader bar makes it impossible for him to get any leverage, though, to grind down in this position, and he whimpers around the gag, pressing up into the brush of Sam's fingers against the welts on his back, chasing his touch.

"You're being so good for me, pet. So very good. Do you think you've earned a reward?" Sam whispers against the sensitive shell of his ear, teeth finding that spot behind the lobe that makes Gabriel's hips jerk against the mattress. He nods as enthusiastically as he can with his cheek pressed into the pillows, tightening his grip on the bell again. 

Broad hands help him get up onto his knees, but a warning touch keeps his chest and face still pressed down, ass arched up and presented to his Master. He's shivering with anticipation, and when Sam's fingers curl around the plug and pull it partway out he keens with delight, using every shred of willpower he had left to keep from moving until he was told, squeezing the bell so hard he was sure the metal would collapse. 

"I want you to fuck yourself on the plug."

In lieu of nodding, Gabriel shoves himself backwards onto the plug, his body opening up easily to accept the silicone toy back inside, once more rubbing just shy of where he desperately wants it. He rolls himself onto the toy with jerky, desperate motions, trying everything he could to get it just a little bit deeper, a little bit further, to touch that delicious spot of pleasure inside himself. And then Sam's yanking the toy out of him in a single rough pull, leaving Gabriel open and clenching around emptiness, a ragged moan rumbling up from his chest. 

He's oversensitized from the suddenness of the motion, and wetness is soaking the blindfold, running down his cheeks, but he's pressing himself back for more, inviting, _pleading_ for Sam to touch him.

There's silence as Sam seems to ponder this, and Gabriel wriggles impatiently, desperate to be filled. He'd been good, after all, and had he been ungagged he'd definitely be making the argument that he had earned a reward. 

Sam, blessedly, seems to agree, and he unhooks Gabriel's wrists from the eyelet in the wall, yanking him down the bed so that he was bent over the edge of it, his ass presented for the other man's scrutiny. This was probably his favourite part of being with Sam, the way he could so easily manhandle him as if he weighed nothing. As if he weren't an archangel with a real form the size of a small country.

Just Gabriel.

That's just about the last coherent thought he has, though, as the pressure of Sam's hips against his ass ends his ability to think properly. He's still mostly dressed, but the thick line of his cock is jutting free from his jeans, and Gabe can feel the scratch of his zipper against his skin, shivering with delight. He is surprised, though, that Sam hadn't drawn this out longer. Usually the man was quite content to torment him for hours, keeping him on the edge with hands and mouth and the many toys in their collection. But the knowledge of the impending apocalypse was weighing on all of them, he supposed, and Gabriel certainly wasn't about turn down getting Sam inside him sooner rather than later.

His Master still has a bit left in him, though, and he groans with frustration when, instead of the blunt heat of Sam's cock, the human is pressing two of his fingers inside Gabriel, pumping them in and out while deliberately missing his sweet spot. His own cock, trapped between his belly and the sheets, throbbed at the lack of stimulation against the silk, and he made an aborted little thrust against the mattress that is punished with a quick swat to his already sore ass.

"None of that. You come from my cock, or not at all," Sam warns, and Gabriel is still in an instant, knowing that the other man would follow through on his threat without remorse. He's rewarded for his quick obedience when Sam crooks his fingers inside him and finally, _finally_ grazes across his prostate, sending Gabriel howling into the bedspread, barely muffled by the soaked gag. 

Had his Grace been untempered by the warding, it definitely would have broken a few windows. 

Sam spends several minutes teasing his captured prey, ordering the angel to keep his cuffed hands high over his head as he goes back and forth between thrusting his long fingers inside and stimulating the bundle of nerves, and he's reduced to incoherent, choked off whimpers, skin drenched with sweat.

Through all this he still has the little bell clutched in his hand, and he clenches his fingers even tighter around it, refusing to let it sound. He was so close to getting what he so desperately needed, and he's panting with anticipation by the time Sam decides he's been tortured enough and withdraws his fingers from inside him. His excitement only increases at the sound of the lube being popped open, and he goes still again, waiting, focusing on breathing.

And then finally, the head of Sam's cock nudges against his entrance, the spreader bar between his ankles keeping Gabe open and ready for him as he was, bent over the bed and ass in the air. Another pause, and the archangel is cursing teasing, tormenting, evil humans named Sam Winchester. But then Sam is suddenly pushing himself inside in one smooth thrust, and Gabriel's mind goes blank of any further complaints, groaning into the blankets and shuddering at the burn of being taken so suddenly. He welcomes the stretch, though, and presses back into it, clenching his body around Sam's cock while his Master waits for Gabriel to adjust. While he knew Gabe could heal any hurts or damage once his collar was removed, but Sam was loathe to actually cause his love actual injury. That wasn't the point of doing this together.

"Such a good pet for me, aren't you?" he whispers, rolling his hips teasingly against Gabe's ass and relishing the strangled little whimper this drags from the wrecked archangel beneath him, watching as he gets an rapid nod in answer. This makes Sam grin, and he draws back to shove a little harder into Gabriel, planting a hand in the small of his back and wrapping the other around his hip to hold him steady.

"So obedient today. Let's see if you can keep it up, and not come until I give you permission."

Another whimper, but also another nod. Gabriel would have promised Sam the moon if only to make the man fuck him into oblivion. 

Not one to tease his pet _too_ long, Sam brushes his lips over the pulse point behind Gabriel's ear before he gives him what he wants, snapping his hips forward hard enough to drive the archangel into the side of the bed. All Gabe can do is hold on for the ride as Sam fucks him fast and rough, the hand holding fast to his waist digging bruises into the pale skin with the ferocity of their coupling. 

He knew he probably wouldn't last long, but he thinks maybe he could have Gabe one more time later this evening, before they have to return back to the rest of the world and this spurs him on, burying himself into the tight heat of his angel's core. The fact that he gets to have him like this still stuns him. That an archangel, a creature of purity and goodness, would want a tainted creature like Sam Winchester. Though, Sam wasn't about to tell Gabe this. He knew for a fact he'd never live it down if the former trickster knew he thought of him as being pure and good in any way.

"So perfect for me, my pet. So tight," he breathed against Gabriel's ear, folding an arm around the angel's shoulders and under him to give himself better leverage to fuck harder and deeper into his body. He knows he's found his sweet spot when the archangel starts to scream, the wet silk of the gag doing little to muffle the noises he made, now. Sam can feel the ripples of an orgasm starting in Gabriel's muscles, and groans against the collar around his angel's neck, feeling his own peak beginning to rise inside his stomach.

"Come for me, Gabriel."

He barely finishes the order when the archangel obeys, spilling out his release against his stomach and the bed sheets before being immediately pressed down into the wet spot by Sam's broad palm at his back. His Master is fucking him through his orgasm, and Gabriel is shuddering at the continued stimulation to sensitized nerves, twisting beneath Sam's touch and clenching around him to try to bring him the pleasure he needs. 

When Sam comes, it's almost with a sigh, stilling his hips deep inside the angel and filling him with his release, managing two more aborted, shallow thrusts before slowly pulling out. It's now, with the need to find completion no longer at the forefront of his mind, that Sam can truly appreciate the picture Gabriel makes, and he takes a step back to admire the utterly wrecked form of the trickster, sprawled across the bed and quivering. 

Raised welts litter his back, ass, and thighs, and his hole is red and puffy from use, the white of Sam's release leaking from the fucked loose flesh. He is beautiful like this, but he lets himself be pulled from his admiration of his fine work when Gabriel is groaning, trying to roll his aching shoulders.

Sam is gentle as he removes the leather cuffs, spreader bar, and silk ties from Gabriel, the archangel pliant and weak beneath him when he takes the bell, as well, muscles still quivering with pent up energy. He leaves the collar on him, though, pressing little kisses to the fluttering skin of his pulse point, massaging the soreness from his muscles. 

"So good.. You were so good for me, Gabe," he murmurs into his ear, earning a tired little noise of assent from the archangel when he's gently rolled over and lifted the rest of the way onto the bed so he can sprawl across it. Sam is frowning at the blank look on Gabriel's face, though, and coaxes him to sit up so he can drink a glass of water, rubbing his fingers in easy circles against his shoulder. While Gabe wouldn't be subject to dehydration like a human would, Sam still felt obligated to take care of him, and it was always good to make sure his needs were met, especially when he had the collar dampening his Grace.

He uses a warm cloth to clean the mess from Gabriel's skin, following its path with gentle kisses. He makes sure to pay special attention to the welts on his back, though, and dabs ointment over the ones that look especially painful, to numb the throb a bit until Gabriel's collar was removed and he could heal them. He liked to keep the collar around his throat when they were here, and he didn't want the angel to be uncomfortable while they lingered.

Still, Gabe doesn't speak, and Sam cups a palm against his cheek to make the angel look up at him, swiping his thumb across his lower lip.

"You were very good for me today, Gabriel. I'm happy with how obedient you were," he reiterates, expression softening when the angel shrugs and looks down at the bedspread, shivering under Sam's touch as if he were back in North Dakota, where he'd come to kidnap him from Dean, rather than on a warm, tropical island. 

Every once in a while, when they did a scene, Gabriel would sink into a melancholy. Sometimes he simply sat and silently stared into space, other times apologizing for being an awful pet, and saying Sam deserved better. The first time it happened, Sam had been genuinely afraid, unused to seeing his normally cocky, arrogant, proud lover reduced to this quiet, unhappy creature. He'd spent an hour on his laptop with Gabriel curled up against his side, looking for answers to their problem. In all the research he'd done before, to become a better Master for Gabriel, he'd never come across something like this, and he was worried about what it might mean. 

Now, though, Sam was an expert at bringing Gabriel out of these depressions, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of his sub's wrist, nuzzling against the skin, before standing and going to rummage through his duffel bag. When he returns to the bed, it's with one of his old Stanford hoodies, and he helps Gabe tug it on, grinning at the way it practically engulfed the smaller man. They would bathe, later, when Sam was sure all his angel's more pressing needs had been tended to. 

With a playful chuckle, he pulled the hood up over his head, allowing the angel to disappear inside the familiar warmth of the thick black cotton. Gabriel liked wearing Sam's clothing, and Sam certainly wasn't about to object when he looked so adorable in them. 

Another thing he would never, ever tell Gabe and live down. 

"Lay down and get some rest, my pet. I'll be back in a minute," Sam murmurs, kissing his forehead before helping him slide under the blankets, since the angel couldn't use his hands with the way the sleeves hung well off them. With that taken care of, he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and pads into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and humming faintly to himself.

In the other room, though, Gabiel isn't nearly as cheery, and he pulls his arms through the sleeves to hug around himself inside the body of the sweatshirt, knees tucked up until the hem is somewhere near his ankles, almost completely encased in the warm fabric. His head swims with doubts, and he makes a miserable noise, face turned into the pillow. 

What if Sam thought he was useless, too, and was just trying to figure out the best way to break the news to him? It wasn't as if he were wanted anywhere else, not even by his own brothers or Father. It was ridiculous to assume that someone like Sam, with a soul so pure it almost hurt Gabe to look at it, despite the blemish of the demon blood inside him. A vessel so perfect it could house the Morningstar himself without being harmed.

He pulls the hood around his face and sighs softly and the smell of Sam that still clings to the cotton, letting the warmth of it fill him up a little bit. His shivering has stopped, at least, and he even smiles a little, fingers brushing over the thick leather of the collar still around his throat.

The scent of chocolate suddenly invades his senses, and Gabriel peeks out from the thick folds of Sam's sweatshirt to see the man himself standing there and smiling, holding out a plate towards the angel. Gabriel lets himself be coaxed into a sitting position, and upon further inspection the plate is piled high with chocolate chip pancakes, drenched in sweet syrup and topped with butter and whipped cream.

"Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe," he can't help but say, his face lighting up with pure delight at the sight of so much of his favourite kind of things. He takes the plate and offered fork and doesn't even notice as Sam settles him between his thighs, leaning back against his chest to enjoy the feast he's been given. 

Gabriel is feeling decidedly warmer and happier by the time he's cleaned the plate, eyes shut and arms folded over his full stomach, enjoying the brush of Sam's fingers through his hair. Cradled here like this, Gabe really couldn't remember why he'd ever felt anxious or upset, and he hummed absently, pressing back into the hunter's touch. While it was always wonderful to hear Sam say he was good, and that he was happy with his performance, it always meant more to Gabriel to see he truly meant these words in the attentive way he looked after the angel, and those gentle touches.

"Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth," he murmurs to himself, looking over when Sam leans sideways to meet his gaze, expression quizzical.

"What was that?" he asked, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Gabriel's ear, giving the angel a brilliant smile.

He's surprised when he's answered with a soft chuckle, though, and purses his lips in confusion at the warm look on Gabe's face, watching as he turned his head to press a kiss to Sam's palm.

"It was nothing. Though I do believe I could be persuaded into eating a few more pancakes."

His grin is teasing and his tone just as much, and he watches as Sam smiles, glad to see that Gabriel was feeling better if he was asking for more food. He lets the large man slide from under him so he can fetch more of the sweet treat, and Gabe lets himself sprawl on the bed on his belly, watching through the door as Sam busied himself with mixing up more batter.

No matter how the Apocalypse was supposed to play out, Gabriel would do everything in his power to protect this man, and everything they shared together. It surprised him how quickly Sam had become his everything, and he couldn't imagine life without him any longer. Lucifer would have to find another vessel to play his games with, because he couldn't have this one. For once, Gabriel was taking something for himself.

"Don't forget the chocolate chips!" he yelled at Sam's back, grinning when he gets a batter smeared thumbs up in response. 

Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel is quoting 1 John 3:18.


End file.
